the recipe catches your eye
in the small town
gazette.
mrs. burnette's peanut butter
cream pie.
you study it
as you eat your lunch.
birds flutter nearby
for croutons from your salad.
without looking
you toss a few into the air.
peanut butter pie,
you say to yourself
quietly,
reading the ingredients.
milk, sugar, eggs.
peanut butter. creamy. a half a cup.
there is a photo of mrs. burnette
besides the recipe.
a small bio
telling you how long she's
been baking cakes and pies
for her friends
and family.
it looks like someone told
her to smile,
a thing she wasn't used to doing.
you can handle this.
carefully you tear out
the recipe
from the thin paper, fold
it and stuff
it into your pocket.
it's been a good day,
and you hope so too for
mrs. burnette.
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